Heart in Hand
by Anemore
Summary: Captain Swan, 411 and post 411, POV from both characters on the things that happened, matters of the heart...


**_So this is my first One Shot ever. It takes place 411 and sort of six weeks later. It's POV bases, both Emma and Killian. Hope you guys enjoy. I just wanted to write something out of sheer frustration, I guess and I'm re-watching Season 3 right now too._**

**_Those who are following "More Than You Know", I hope that I'll have a new chapter up by next week or mid-January. _**

**_Cheers :)_**

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She was waking up slowly, letting her eyes adjust to the winter daylight that found its way through the single curtained window of the room. Her body ached deliciously from the previous night's exertions.

Another short night, not that she minded.

She had begun staying the night with him, every now and then, once or twice a week. It was just something that had started happening after she had woken up in his bed for the first time following what they had labeled their second date. His room which incidentally had been the first room she had occupied upon her arrival in Storybrooke at Granny's Bed and Breakfast was a little warmer and cozier than she remembered it. It was probably because he lived in it she thought.

She had shown up with her laptop in hand and stood on the other side of the door and simply said "quiet moment." He had smiled at her and let her in. "This is Netflix," she had sat on the bed, her back against the headboard, her head against his as she had leaned into him.

"Intriguing," he had retorted. "Is it like the television box?"

"It's just a television, Killian."

"Interesting realm." She loved how he always took new things in strides though he still called her car a vessel and had even called it a chariot once. When she looked at him at times, she felt as though he had stepped out of a Jane Austen novel rather than a fairytale. Whoever had told his story should be shot for their troubles. They had gotten a whole lot of it wrong.

She stayed the night with him whenever Henry had plans to stay with Regina. Inevitably, she went home to her parents', picked up a change of clothes for the next day and made her way out into the cold and straight to Killian's room to which she had a key. She would unlock the door, drop her things off before she would make her way down to the docks and sit next to him on the bench. His evening ritual as he called it. They usually stayed until the first celestial body appeared in the sky. Venus always shined first and brighter. He told her it was fitting seeing as Venus was the Goddess of everything beautiful in the world.

Captain Hook the romantic, she would smirk. But she had come to count on these moments and she knew he made his way to the docks every evening less because of the stars and more because he missed his ship.

As the weeks went by, it had become increasingly difficult not to end up in his room after the day was over. She had practically moved in. The clothes she brought with her stayed there. He had given her her own space in his closet. Three of her leather jackets were hung next to the one he had always worn before transitioning into a more modern look. He had given her the top drawer of his dresser without telling her he had or asking her if she wanted it. He had just put away her clothes there one day. "Everything is always all over the place, Swan," he had remarked when she looked for her blue shirt. "Now, you can just put your things away," he had opened the drawer and shown her his handy work. He could fold clothes better with one hand than she could with two. But then, he was always a lot more patient than she was.

They were more settled as a couple. In six weeks, they had gone to countless dinners, had talked about everything under the sun. They hung out with her family, they hung out at the station while she did work. He helped here and there with some tasks at hand. He also spent a lot of time at the library with Belle going through books, trying to figure out a solution to the problem posed by the Sorcerer's Hat. He wanted to fix the things he had done while he was under duress and Rumplestiltskin's control. He wanted to redeem himself. Sometimes, he woke at night and stared at the ceiling remembering how he had helped put the elderly man, the Apprentice, in the hat and then used it himself against the fairies. He was thankful Tinker Bell was nowhere near the diner when he had been forced into doing what he did. If he knew the other fairies in passing, he knew Tink rather well. They had been through a lot together in Neverland. He could call her a friend and the thought of forcing her into the hat made him sick to his stomach. His regrets had become a burden she saw in his gaze every day.

She swallowed thickly. No matter how good he was at surviving, there were times she had to squeeze her eye shut to chase away the image of him being brought to his knees as Gold tried to grind the heart into dust. She had been frozen in her spot and watching in horror hoping that Belle would get to the dagger on time.

She had jumped in her bug and raced back to town from the manor. The things Anna had said about Gold, how he had played them, lied about not knowing her or anyone from Arendelle, the plan to cut himself loose from his dagger. If he no longer needed the dagger, then nothing could stop him. The dagger being in Belle's possession meant nothing.

She had been horrified knowing these things. She had been horrified that Killian had gone to Gold for assistance for anything and then things started falling into place for her. The assistance Gold offered in order to find the Snow Queen which Elsa had mentioned to her in passing, the hand he had gotten back before their date then lost again, the behavior during the same date that she had chalked up as nervousness. She had after all been nervous as well, from the moment she had asked him out until she had been seated at the restaurant. They knew each other very well, cared deeply for one another, but the date was a first for both of them. She had wanted things to go well and she imagined he wanted the same. "I'm certain he made a deal with Gold for his hand," she had told her mother who sat on the passenger side. She wondered what kind of agreement he had come to with the Dark One. She would find Killian later and yell at him for thinking what he was not enough for her.

She had seen the bright purple lights over the clock tower and sensed the powerful magic and she became terrified. She wasn't even sure she would be able to handle whatever Gold might throw at her. In fact, she was certain she might not get away from this one unscathed. "Seriously," she had muttered under her breath as she ran out of her car followed by her mother.

She had seen Belle following something that looked like a gauntlet and gone to her, rushing through the explanation and what she had learned from Anna. "I think he already has the dagger." She had looked hopeless as she pulled the dagger she had in her purse and tried to summon Rumplestiltskin to her once more. They had formulated a quick plan, get to the clock tower, have Emma act as a distraction and let Belle talk her husband down, have him hand the real dagger over.

But then, when she had gotten out of the elevator her heart sank. The last time she had felt overcome with dread was when Henry had yanked his own heart out and shoved it in Pan's chest before collapsing to the ground.

_No, no, no, no, not him. Not him!_

Killian standing there with his heart in Gold's hand. This man who was slowly becoming everything to her, standing there bravely and dignified, ready to die. She would not expect anything less from him. For all his faults, Killian Jones was not a coward and he would never give his old enemy the satisfaction of anything. She had suddenly remembered how he was when she had met him, reckless, vengeful and suicidal. He had no care for his own life. She knew he had been ready to die for a very long time. She watched helplessly as Gold started squeezing the heart, trying to grind it into dust, she saw Killian brought to his knees and heard him scream in agony and all she could think of was how she failed to see how wrong things were with him. She had sensed something, but there was so much going on thought it was such a poor excuse in that moment. While he had always been there for her, when he needed her, she had failed him. Guilt had overwhelmed her as she stood rooted in her spot helpless to save him, the one who had come back for her.

"Drop the heart," she was pulled out of her trance. "Release everyone." She saw the heart leave Gold's hand and fall straight into Killian's who had clutched it close to his chest before he stood and looked down on her with relief. Then Belle and Gold were gone, poofed away to the town line as Belle had ordered using the dagger she had managed to get her hands on and Emma had rushed up the stairs as Killian was coming down, meeting her half way.

Words had failed her as she looked down at the heart he had put in her hands for safe keeping. She had cradled it close to her chest against her own heart as both beat in tandem.

Words still failed her later as she stood in the hallway near Granny's kitchen. "He took it that night when I came to the manor to try and stop you from giving up your magic. He was going to suck you into this hat to rid himself from his dagger. The only other thing he needed was the heart of someone who knew him before he became the Dark One."

She had listened to his words. The way he had kissed her, the fleeting look in his eyes, how he had left the manor on his own, without her, had not sought her out until the next morning, how it had been so unlike him. He had spent nearly the whole night with her after she had been pulled out of the ice cave, refusing to leave her side. But as she had managed to get out of the crisis her magic had created, he had been nowhere to be found. Even his phone had gone unanswered.

"I left you a message on your phone, but Rumplestiltskin got a hold of your device. I tried to stop you," his voice sounded desperate. "I wanted to be worthy of you, be the man you deserved, but I failed."

Those words had broken her heart. For someone who was exuberant and so sure of himself on the outside, he was as lost and confused as her. He always gave her a strong shoulder to lean on, chewed her out when she needed it, but seeing how vulnerable he was, unsure of himself, had severed something deep within on her.

He needed her as much as she needed him and she had come so close to losing him. She simply knew she would not be able to get over this loss. She knew losing him would cripple and haunt her. Nothing in her life would ever be the same if he was not in it.

_"__Not a day will go back that I won't think of you," the memory tugged at her, painfully._

_"__Good."_

A sense of hope.

Then shattered.

It was taken away from her, from him.

Just like that.

What they had been in the short time they had known each other, adversaries then friends, and the endless possibilities of what they could become together, best friends, partners, lovers, and so much more, all gone in an instant when she found out she would forget everything real she had learned about him. His pains, his joys, his unwavering belief in her. Captain Hook would go back to being a caricature, a fairytale character, someone who did not exist when she knew he was flesh and blood much like her, someone who had dreams of being loved again and love again, aspirations to be a better person, recapture who he used to be before grief had overtaken him.

For her, it was all gone. Snuffed away as though it had been nothing.

While the caricature that Captain Hook was existed in her world, Killian Jones did not. The world knew nothing of him and so neither would she.

She had not lied to Regina in the crypt when she said she was happy with him. "Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" she had asked him. "Have faith in me," she had pleaded with him. She promised herself she would stand by him through this and everything else that might come his way, their way.

"Do you want me to put it back in?"

He had nodded at her, asked her to be gentle. But she had just slammed it back into his chest because she was unsure how to do it. She had seen Regina put Henry's heart back in his chest and she had done it slowly and carefully, but Henry had also been unconscious while Killian was standing in front of her. If putting his heart back in hurt, she did not want to stretch it out longer than necessary.

He had kissed her, had poured everything into it. Everything he could have put into words, he put in the way he kissed her instead. "I told you, Swan, I'm a survivor."

She had smiled at him, relief washing over her. "You should get some rest. We can talk about everything in the morning."

He had not argued with her. She had walked him to his room and given him a kiss goodnight and it had taken her everything to walk away from him for the night. He was exhausted and so was she. She needed a drink to chase away what she had seen not an hour before.

She turned her head and her eyes found his face, asleep, relaxed. He was sleeping on his back, the covers were tangled around him. She touched her hand to his chest, ever so lightly.

"It's still in there," he muttered before he opened his eyes and glanced at her. "No one will rip it out again," he said gathering her in his arms before closing his eyes again.

"Shouldn't we have some sort of signal, like tapping your head or scratching your nose or jump on one foot," she joked, "or something, anything?"

He smiled with his eyes still closed. "I learned my lesson, Swan. You and I are a team and I should trust that you're on my side no matter what."

He was ready to go, to die. The way he had led his life had taught him that he could die at any moment. When he was a naval officer, he fought and knew that a well directed blow could end him. The same applied when he turned his back on his military career and had deserted, becoming a pirate. With the name and reputation he had started building for himself, there was always someone who came and challenged him. Taking down Captain Jones and later Captain Hook meant that someone would always try and make a name for themselves until they realized they would not get the best of him. Everyone had let him be until Blackbeard had stolen his ship.

He had been prepared to die for his vengeance. He wasn't scared of dying. He looked upon death as an old friend he would greet and welcome with open arms someday.

But then, he had her and he loved her and he could not bear leaving her behind after he had promised her he would survive. He had survived everything thrown at him. When his heart had been taken, he thought of the way Milah had died and her last words to him, the burden words of love had carried for him. He had not said them back to her too shocked by what had happened.

The only thing he had been grateful for during his ordeal was that Emma would not be there to witness his final moments. It was a small blessing but a blessing nonetheless. He had lived with the memory of Milah dying because her heart had been crushed into dust and Emma had two men she had cared deeply for die in her arms. He did not want his death to be a weight anymore than theirs had been on her or stop her from finding a man who would love her for everything she was because she was worth it. He did not want her to carry the way he had died with her. He wanted her to remember the good things between them and he had wanted to give her more but his life was finally coming to a close.

He had stood in front of Rumplestiltskin as he had rattled on about his demise, how he would kill him so that he would never be controlled by the blasted dagger. He had even teased, how he thought Captain Hook would have crumbled now that his end was in sight.

"I'm not the coward," he had replied.

Then he saw Emma rush in out of the elevator. And he felt his resolve weaken. He felt panic rise in him and he had become scared. It was not supposed to be this way. None of this was supposed to be this way. It was all wrong. He was supposed to live, be by her side and love her if she'd let him. He was just content to be with her, with the idea that he might be able to grow old with her.

She had stood there frozen in her spot and all he could think of was the helplessness he had felt when his body had been magically tied to the mast of his ship while his first love was killed and the second time when he had been tied to a fence, watching lights flash and flicker behind the large windows of the manor hoping that Emma would not walk in the Crocodile's trap.

He had swallowed hard as he looked from Emma to the heart Rumplestiltskin held in his hand. His heart that he squeezed as though it had been some kind of a toy. He had felt the crushing pain in his chest, had fallen to his knees, loathing the weakness he was displaying in front of his old enemy. This was coming to an end. He was going to be killed in front of her very eyes. Everything he did not want was going to happen.

Then…salvation.

Instead of being dead, his heart was dropped straight into his hand and someone he had wronged not so long ago stood there, dagger in hand, ordering the Dark One to stand down and take them to the town line and they were gone. Belle had saved his life and he looked down at Emma, relief washing over him. Then she was no longer rooted in her spot, she was rushing up the stairs and he was rushing down and then they were face to face and neither had said anything because the moment seemed to be too great for any words to be spoken. They always understood each other without having to utter a word or a sentence. This was just who they were. Always knew what the other was thinking even when they had no regard for each other.

He had put his heart in her hands and she had cradled it against her chest before they walked out of the library and into the night.

Of course, leave it to her to shove his heart in his chest as opposed to do it gently. The force she had used to do so had left a bruise…the kiss, wanting him to rest, the talk they had, how furious she had been with him over his hand. "Let me be the judge of that," she had said to him.

They had truly settled into a relationship in the past six weeks. He was happier than he had ever been and he believed it was the same for her.

"I used to wake up at the crack of dawn," he said turning to his side.

"Are you implying I've made you lazy?"

"You're the one who likes to sleep in. It's eight, by the way," he opened an eye and looked at the clock over her shoulder.

She sighed as she threw the covers over and slipped out of bed. "I need to run back to the loft, see my parents and pick up the bug. Buy me coffee?" She got dressed quickly and walked around to his side of the bed and leaned over him.

"Coffee or cocoa?" he smiled up at her.

"Surprise me," she kissed him before walking away. "See you in about an hour?"

"Aye."


End file.
